“Lasting Peace and Joy” by Nora St. Cyr

Lasting Peace & Joy by Nora St. Cyr

It was snowing, and the earth was arrayed with a beautiful blanket of white, and there were frosty icicles hanging underneath all of the signs and the roofs of everyone’s houses. It was a gorgeous snowy day. Perfect day for a walk. I closed the door, feeling the brisk air on my face. I stepped out of my driveway to go for a lovely walk in this beautiful scenery.

As I was walking, the phone rang. It was my mother calling. But why on earth would she be calling me right now? I finished college a few years ago, and I finally decided to move into my own house. It was closer to my job, so it was easier anyway. Since I moved here, my parents wanted to call me weekly to check how I was doing. We have a designated time for that though: 6:30. She was supposed to call me at 6:30 tonight, couldn’t she just wait?

I took it out of my pocket and answered it anyway. “Hello?” I said.

“Jessica?” she answered.

“Um…yeah. Hey Mom,” I said. Her voice sounded really odd. Almost like she’d been crying or something.

“I have something to tell you,” she breathed in slowly, like she wanted to tell me something but wasn’t very sure how.

“What happened?” I asked, suddenly afraid of what she was about to tell me.

“Your grandfather, he…”

I could feel my heart drop and the color drain from my face as she finished her sentence, “He passed away.”

“W-what? How? What happened?” My grandfather has never had an illness, any health problems, or anything close to one.

“He was hit by a car. I’m so sorry, Jessica.”

I couldn’t say anything.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked. She knew how close I was to my grandfather.

“Not really. I just want to be left alone,” I said.

“Okay sweetie. Bye.”

“Bye Mom,” I said, hanging up.

I didn’t know what to do, what to say, what to think.

I stopped walking and stared at the ground.

No… this can’t be happening.

I could feel the tears streaming down my face, despair in my heart.

I felt the cold wind bite my cheeks. I just stood there for a minute, closing my eyes, thinking through everything. It still seemed impossible. My brain refused to believe it.

I sighed, watching my breath blow into the cold winter air, and proceeded to walk.

I watched the people outside, clearing the snow from their driveways or walking their dogs. I didn’t really feel like interacting with anyone, so I kept my head down and kept walking while feeling the tears trickle down my face.

I was so distracted with my thoughts that I walked right into someone.

“Woah, excuse me,” a man said. His voice was nice, crisp, and deep. I looked straight into sparkling ocean-blue eyes on a beautiful complexion, with dark curls on top of his head. Needless to say, he was handsome.

I tried to hide the fact I was crying by wiping away my tears and managing to croak out,

“I…I…I’m sorry, I…I…d…d…didn’t see you there…”, and I started crying again. So much

for keeping my cool. I tried to walk again, but then I tripped over my feet and would have faceplanted into the snow, if he hadn’t caught me in time.

“Are you okay?” he asked, still holding me up.

It was a simple question. I could have just smiled and nodded, but I couldn’t. First of all, as he was holding me up, I could feel the heat rise to my cheeks. When I got over that, I started crying and found myself telling him, “Well, I just got some difficult news from home so I’m not really doing the best right now. Sorry for disturbing you.”

“No, it’s okay. Is there any way I can help?” he asked, letting go of me.

I didn’t really feel like talking at the moment, so I said, “No, thank you, but I appreciate the offer.”

“No problem. You can talk to me anytime if you need to. I’m Tyler, by the way.” he said.

“Thank you. I’m Jessica. I should go see my family now,” I said, gazing into his oceanblue eyes.

The time with my family was difficult. We were still all very sad and surprised by my grandfather’s passing.

When I came back home, I saw Tyler again, except this time, he was standing in the yard next door. I guess he was the new next-door neighbor I saw moving in the other day. He was shoveling the snow off of his driveway. As I was walking toward my front door, I saw his shovel break.

“Aw man,” he said, “this was my only shovel.”

I knew I had a shovel, and I wanted to help him, so I got out my shovel and walked next door.

“Hey Tyler, do you need any help? I saw your shovel break, so I brought you one.” I said.

“Thank you so much! Yes, my shovel broke, but it was old anyway.”

“I didn’t know you lived next door to me,” I said.

“I didn’t know either,” he said. “Hey, by the way, how are you doing? How was your visit with your family?”

“I’m doing better than I was last time I saw you, although I’m definitely still sad about it. The visit with my family was hard too,” I said.

“Would you like to share with me what happened?”

“My grandfather passed away.”

“I’m sorry. I understand what you’re going through. My grandfather passed away too a couple of years ago.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. My mom called me, telling me that my grandfather was very sick, and I immediately made plans to go see him.”

“What happened next?” I asked.

“Well, he was still alive when I arrived, but I had to watch him pass away. But I held his hand and told him, ‘I love you’, and it seemed to mean the world to him. And do you know what he told me?”

“What?” I asked.

“‘Always find the joy, Tyler, and in that joy find peace as well.’” He had a faraway look in his eyes.

“Did you find it? Even though your grandfather passed away?”

“I did,” he said. “It took a while, but eventually I did.”

“How?” I asked.

“I looked to God. I prayed every night for me, my family, and my grandfather. And he

gave me peace at heart. I also had joy because he had strong faith in Christ.”

“My grandfather did too; he often shared with me how Christ worked in his life,” I said.

“You can have peace and joy too. Have peace at heart that God always has a plan for you and your family, and even rejoice that your grandfather is with God. And it is okay to mourn his loss, just don’t lose sight of your hope in Christ.”

“Thank you so much. This talk really helped.”

“Hey, no problem. We should hang out more.”

“Yeah, we definitely should.”

As I walked back to my house, a smile crossed my lips. I was looking forward to hanging out with Tyler, and I could see peace and joy in my future.

“In the Reeds” by Nathan Kawecki

“My piece is inspired by a pond in the middle of reeds near my house. I have many memories around this place, and it is grounded in my mind as a place of peace.” -Nathan

Christmas 1914: A Soldier’s Perspective By Grace Huang

I just want the fighting to end. I want to go home, hug my parents, and pet my dog. It’s Christmas and we’re still in the trenches, preparing for battle. Everyone of us should be at home, not at war. Suddenly, around 12 in the afternoon we hear singing. The enemy was singing Christmas carols. Everyone around me in the trench stops what they are doing, looks up, and just listens. Tears fill my eyes as the familiar melodies bring back memories of Christmases that seem a lifetime ago. Memories of that beautiful time of peace that seems so, so long ago. Children caroling, laughter over failed cookies, snowball fights, and

family. Someone from our side joins in the song, and suddenly hundreds of voices fill the air with memories, and longing of peace. Someone yells out, “Come over here!” and someone from our side replies “You come halfway, we come halfway!” Slowly I creep out of my trench and into no man’s land with many others following warily. We meet the enemy halfway as agreed, and they look as shabby and sorrowful as we do. We just stare at each other in amazement. Seconds past and nobody moves. Then suddenly a soldier calls out, “We should celebrate and get to know each other while we can. I have a bundle of old and unwearable clothes we can use as a ball if anyone is up for a game of soccer.” Slowly the people around me began to relax and the tense atmosphere began to dissipate. People were openly chatting with each other and exchanging addresses while a game of soccer started up, the “ball” flying everywhere. “Just like home.” I said quietly to myself, ”I hope I don’t get brained by the ball.” Out of nowhere I hear someone ask me, “So where are you from?” I jumped three feet in the air and barely landed on my feet. The stranger laughed. ”I’m sorry I scared you” He said softly with a German accent. ”And I apologize for laughing.” “Sol right.” I said, “My face must have looked like my grandma’s when she saw a mouse. Anyway, to answer your question I’m from Manchester.” The German nods and says, “I’m from Cologne.” “Name’s Henry Smith, what about you?” “My name is Wilhelm.” “Nice to meet you Wilhelm,” I say. “Likewise,” Wilhelm replies. We chat for a while, talking about Christmas traditions from home. “Thank you.” “What?” I ask, startled. “ It’s nothing.” I replied. We exchanged addresses and Wilhelm told me to “ Write as soon as you are able, I hope to see you again one day.” He left, heading back to his camp. I called out after him, “See you after the war!” I sighed as I walked toward my camp. . . . The day they told us we could stop fighting was like living in a dream, albeit a grimy and tiring one. “I can’t believe the war is over,” I think as I walk home. I wonder what Wilhelm is

doing. I hope he survived. I arrived home and my mother tells me that a letter came in the post addressed to me. “ Who’s it from?” she asks. I pick it up and open it, pulling out a hand drawn picture of Wilhelm and I with the caption, “Told you I’d see you again.” I smile and answer, “It’s from a friend.”

“Nathan” by Gabriel Crane “This piece is a portrait of my friend who I see embodying both peace and joy daily.” -Gabriel